


Thursday = Thor's Day

by palettesofrenaissance



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Happy, F/M, Living Together, Married Couple, New Asgard, Oral Sex, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Short & Sweet, Slice of Life, Years Later, sex mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:55:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24030898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palettesofrenaissance/pseuds/palettesofrenaissance
Summary: When Thor is given the opportunity of governing any cards he wants, he makes sure to use it to the fullest degree. It sll started when he was gifted a day of his very own when he was thirteen—”Thor’s Day.” Since then, he’s never gone back.Valkyrie’s thumb caresses his beard’s short whiskers.“You know what day it is today?” Thor purrs as he kisses the back of her hand before moving up to her wrist and then her forearm. He then grows a smirk, scooting beneath the blankets.And then she feels warmth on her waist, on her pelvic bone, and she inhales. Waits.[ PROMPT - thorkyrie + "Thor's Day"/Thursday ]
Relationships: Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Thursday = Thor's Day

When Thor is given the opportunity of governing any cards he wants, he makes sure to use it to the fullest degree.

It’s happened when his mother, Frigga, let him decide his own wardrobe for a week at the age of seven, and when he was put in charge of the royal pegasus stable. It’s happened when he was put in charge of his younger brother, Loki, for three days when he was twelve and Loki was nine. It’s happened when he was gifted a day of his very own when he was thirteen—”Thor’s Day.” Since then, he’s never gone back.

Now many moons old and a lifetime of experience under his belt, Thor Odinson wakes up with a new taste of life on his tongue and a new set of burdens on his shoulders.

The sun rises after he does. When he’s found, he’s already busy, carrying logs of chopped trees on his shoulders into New Asgard to be used. Some of it will be made into furniture, remains into firewood, small pieces into trinkets and jewelry to be sold to Midgardians.

From the window of her new “palace,” Valkyrie stands and watches, nursing a mug of hot tea and bourbon. Then almost like a seventh sense, he looks towards the window like he’d known she was staring, and she’s swears he’s looking directly at her—no, she _knows_ he is, and her pulse skips accordingly—but then in the next, he’s turning, going back into the forest.

It takes nearly three Earth years for him to _begin_ vocally admitting and coming to terms with the inner turmoils that drove him to isolation.

“Remember that time you were so adamant about getting _all_ the needed wood supply by yourself?” Val giggles, raising a knuckle to hide her teeth. Now it’s many, many more years later and she’s lying on her back, relaxed, in her bed on crisp sheets on a bright Thursday morning.

Beside her, Thor grumbles.

New Asgard has been built and their people are prospering. There hasn’t been a record of malice since their near genocide. There hasn’t been a sign of deep depression wrinkling the skin between Thor’s eyebrows for five years now, consecutively.

Valkyrie’s smile dwindles. A hand reaches out to rubs circles with her thumb between Thor’s brows.

“What’s troubling you, my queen?” The title has long become an intimate pet name between the two.

Thor begins to melt at the name; he melts even more as her hand lowers to cradle his cheek. “Nothing. Nothing at all, Your Highness,” he hums.

Her thumb caresses his beard’s short whiskers. Outside, the Asgardians are alive with their new occupations and rebuilt lives. A forklift rumbles somewhere far. A flock of crows are run off from crowding around a baker’s open window.

“You know what day it is today?” Thor purrs.

“Uh uh.”

Removing Valkyrie’s hand, he begins kissing the back of her hand before moving up to her wrist and then her forearm.

“It’s Thursday.” He kisses the inside of her forearm.

A chill runs down Valkyrie’s spine—not the kind from fear or warning instincts or a horrific premonition. No, it isn’t like that _at all_.

Back during everyone’s recovery during New Asgard’s near completion, a night of alcohol around a bonfire and storytelling revealed that Thursday was originally named after Thor.

“Does anything usually happen on Asgard on Thursday,” Bruce Banner asked during a visit, being the only one who doesn’t know.

“Anything I want,” Thor answers smugly, raising his small flask of mead to his lips. “I got nearly everything I wanted, back on Asgard—at least when I was a babe.”

Understandably, Bruce is surprised.

Valkyrie butts in. “Yeah, he’s a spoiled brat.” Her free hand wanders to its side, finding Thor’s knee and squeezes with purpose into the muscle below his kneecap. She thinks her words are solely playful. “You think you can get everything you want, huh?”

Heavy lids and a lick at the alcohol on her own lips causes Thor’s bravado to be short-lived and his swallow to become stuck in his throat. Her hand slides to his thigh, a moment so subtle and quick it geos unnoticed by their company. The bonfire hides the blooming blush on Thor’s face.

“Spoiled brat,” drunken Val quips back then, watching in wasted satisfaction as Thor chugs the rest of his mead, flustered.

In the present, Valkyrie is no longer laughing as she registers her husband’s words. “Thursday already, again?” she repeats.

His kisses have reached her shoulder. “Mm hm.”

And his breath causes goosebumps. His mouth travels to her neck and Val shivers.

“Well, what do you—” She cuts off at a gentle kiss to her mouth that makes her head automatically tilt back, then ever so lightly reaches forward for more.

“I get to have what I want for the day,” he answers, pausing to speak.”Like how I like to start my day.”

His dark blonde hair is a curtain around them, outgrown again, and she’s remarked about its comparison to being short many times. On the bed below him, hers is dark silk covering the pillowcases.

She’s been lulled by soft caresses and baritone whispers to lie, a puddle, into the pillows.

Her voice balances between a hypnotized whisper and normal, lost in his lip’s motions. “And what is that?”

It’s after Thor’s had his fill and has her worked up into having her arms wrapped around his shoulders, has tasted her skin from her head to her chest and is traveling to her stomach, he grows a smirk and separates. Still traveling further south, scooting beneath the blankets, he grins. “I think you know exactly what I want.” Takes her hand to kiss her fingertips.

And then Val feels warmth on her waist, on her pelvic bone and she inhales, waits. Resting a hand behind her head, she adjusts in bed and lets her head fall back, relaxed. “I guess this isn’t…a bad way to start,”and then she gasps, “start the day…”

And then from beneath the blankets, Valkyrie feels warmth and his tongue on her inner thighs, and then between them.

**Author's Note:**

> _even though Valkyrie and Thor are my favorite couple in the Marvel films, I unfortunately haven't gotten the chance to write more for them. But here's my contribution._
> 
> _how did I do?_


End file.
